We All Fall Down
by Late Papers
Summary: Mello overloads, and Matt is there to try to stop him from going boom. MelloxMatt, Premonitiony spoilers for chap. 99. Sorry, I'm terrible at summaries. R&R Critique, please?


**Author's note: I own none of the Death Note characters or anything related to Death Note., if I did, I would not be writing a author's not on a fanfiction site.**

**Enjoy.**

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He was quiet as he slipped past the doorframe of the living room, the only sound in the apartment his bare feet padding the carpet and then the linoleum as the man walked into the kitchen. He remained free of voluntary noise as he opened the door to the nearly empty refrigerator, and explored it's contents with his pale eyes.

Mello sighed heavily and thought that eventually, either he or Matt was going to have give in and go to the supermarket. Mello had the feeling it would NOT be him heading into the grocery store down the block, whether he had to pay Matt to get him to do it. He reached in and pulled a huge clump of grapes off a slightly wilted bunch plopped on a plate on one of the shelves. It made him gag slightly as he popped one of the squishy fruits into his mouth. He didn't like them, but he needed something to hold, something to chew on.

The red numbers of the digital clock on Matt's rarely used stove told him it was 3 o'clock in the morning and he remembered someone telling him once that that was the real "witching hour". Midnight was for amateurs. He smiled slightly, stretching the scar on the left side of his face with the movement, and then he headed back out of the kitchen down the carpeted hallway back to his spot surrounded by computers and newspapers in the living room.

Mello tried to be silent as he padded past the bedroom where he could hear Matt breathing, but he stopped and swore to himself that he'd just check on the other guy. Check and move on. He had more important things to do then worry about Matt.

But as he pushed the door open and saw Matt spread on the bed, goggles off and eyes not fixed on some tiny lit screen but closed, Mello knew he couldn't back away. He couldn't just leave, and he collapsed against the doorframe and his grapes fell to the floor. The material of his outfit squeaked slightly against the wall, but he just hoped it hadn't woken Matt because Mello wasn't sure he could stand and he didn't want to make excuses.

Mello felt weaker and more helpless now then he could ever remember feeling. Paralyzed by his own thoughts, it was worse then being immobilized by a burn and the ensuing illness. He **knew **he would get better from that. It could be defeated. That was physical; he could defeat anything he could see. Except Near… No. He would beat Near, too. Near was a person, he had to take longer to defeat then a fire and the resulting scars.

He reached up and pulled down his bangs more solidly on the left side of his face, covering his blind eye.

He was sick of being second and losing. All his life, he'd been second. Even before Near came into the picture. Before Wammy's House. He ran his hands through his hair, trying to erase the painful memories that kept showing him his parent's and his older sister's faces.

His older sister had been smarter then Near. Smarter, maybe even, then L. And she had been so pretty. Mello's sister had been perfect and had set the standards that Mello's parents always held him to.

That's what, Mello realized now, had made it so easy for him to hate Near. Hate him with every fiber of his being, devote his existence to Near's defeat. With Near it had always been worse, seeing as he was two years younger. And still, always when their names were mentioned together all Mello ever got to hear was how he should be more like Near, how he should be calmer, have more control, be smarter, be better. Be more like Near.

And this thing with Kira…

It was just another contest that Mello knew he could not win. In fact, if one of them was going to die, he would not be placing any bets on his own survival. He knew he just wasn't the kind of guy who survived a life or death struggle and since all his life he had always only managed second. Why should this be any different?

And then there was Matt. Thinking of him and knowing he was only a few feet from him made Mello's chest flutter. At this point though, he thought, the flutter was rather pathetic and almost cruel. After all he had forced Matt to do and all Matt had willingly helped with, Mello would do nothing Matt didn't want. At least not when it was three in the morning, he had no chocolate, and he was in the middle of a mental break-down.

And with this new plan Mello was afraid he was dragging Matt with him to the grave. Mello knew Matt would agree to help him, Matt wanted Kira dead too….just not quite so vehemently as Mello. Matt had looked up to L too, he had been third in line after all. And this was as much about revenge for the two of them as it was about justice. But Matt was so different from Mello that sometimes Mello couldn't understand why they clicked so well.

Matt quietly didn't care about becoming the next L. He didn't give a fuck about Near, or for that matter Mello. In fact, their emotionlessness would almost seem like a similarity between the two had the intensity of the boy's dead-panism not been so very different.

Mello tried to act like them sometimes. He really did. But in stead of being a stone wall, Mello was an explosion and he knew it.

A second-rate explosion.

That was probably the worst bit, he thought as he curled around himself, for once not spreading as far as he could, finally realizing why L had liked this position so much. It felt very safe, it protected him from himself. If only for a moment. Allowed him to break his façade of strength and be weak, if only for a moment. Just for a moment, as with horror he felt moisture of what had to be tears on the right side of his face. He knew that his left eyeball was fried and would produce none of the embarrassing streaks which now striped his pale face. He shivered, feeling very responsible for everything that had happened to him.

Now he knew it was not entirely him, but the scar was. The stupid, bloody, ugly scar that he had tried so hard to hide with his hair. He pressed his face to his leather covered legs, and wished to disappear.

And as the blonde shook with a suppressed sob, he felt a skinny arm wrap around his shoulders and heard Matt's quiet voice humming what sounded like "You are My Sunshine" in a minor key, his chin on Mello's shoulder as he wrapped another arm around the other boy. Mello froze for a moment, surprised to see Matt's uncovered eyes staring at him like he'd heard every thought in Mello's head.

"You're not worthless, I swear." Matt whispered, and Mello smiled, glad to have Matt next to him. He buried his head in the striped shoulder, as Matt leaned his head on Mello's.

"We'll make it through. Both of us. I promise." Matt murmured.

Before Matt could say anymore, Mello pressed his mouth to the other boys in a quick, hard kiss.

He'd always wanted to do that and while they sat on the precipice above Hell, it seemed as good a time as any he would ever have.

"I believe you." Mello lied in a whisper as he leaned his head against Matt's chest.


End file.
